


The Perils of Peaches

by Severina



Category: Young Riders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-28
Updated: 2003-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-23 03:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/245806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So that's why I didn't see the blasted pickle barrel stuck right in the middle of the aisle. I felt myself falling, but only managed a strangled "oomph" before I hit the ground -- hard. You hear people talk about seeing stars, right? Well, I saw an entire galaxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perils of Peaches

Why me?

I just wanted to head out to Harper Ridge with my friends. Eat some plum cake. Drink some fruit punch. Enjoy the festival. Maybe dance with a pretty girl or two.

So. why me??

I know the answer. 'Cause I'm a sucker. Jimmy Hickok just can't say no to a pretty face or a soft smile. So when Lou asked if I'd run back to the store to fetch her new purple bonnet -- I bit my lip and stopped myself from ranting that if she cared so much about her danged bonnet, she wouldn't have left it behind to begin with. Instead, I turned Sundancer around and set off toward the store. And when Emma called after me, asking me to pick up some canned peaches while I was there... well, what was I supposed to say? No? I already told you I can't say no to a pretty face.

Sweetwater was practically deserted by the time I reached the shop. Teaspoon told us that _everybody_ went to the Harper Ridge festival, but I didn't really believe him. Surely there'd be some people that stayed behind... even if it was just to prop up a wall at the Wildhorse Saloon. But Teaspoon was right. Sweetwater was a ghost town. For one day and one night, anyway.

I could just make out Tompkins bustling around in the storeroom, but I wasn't about to call out to him. The last thing I needed was him huffing and puffing at my back while I tried to make out the tiny little words on the tins! Peaches... peaches... fresh ripe juicy peaches. I could see 'em in my head, but why in blazes don't they have little pictures on the cans? It would have made my life so much easier.

After what seemed like an eternity, I had finally narrowed it down to two likely suspects. With a can in each hand, I started to make my way toward the counter. All right, so I was looking down at the cans as I walked. It was going to be hard enough to ask for Tompkins's help in making the final choice... and I kept thinking that if I could just figure it out before I got to the back of the store, I wouldn't have to ask him anything at all.

So that's why I didn't see the blasted pickle barrel stuck right in the middle of the aisle. I felt myself falling, but only managed a strangled "oomph" before I hit the ground -- hard. You hear people talk about seeing stars, right? Well, I saw an entire galaxy. The last thing I remember was clutching them peaches -- if they were peaches -- in my hand so hard that the can burst.

Yup, they were peaches.

By the time I woke up, everything was hushed and still and I couldn't quite remember where I was. Then the memory returned. The pickle barrel. The crash as I fell and somehow got myself wedged between the wooden barrel and the shelf of women's toiletries. Who knew a body could fit in such a tiny space? Only my feet betrayed my presence... and obviously not well enough, 'cause I was certainly alone. How Tompkins could have missed the sound of my body hitting the floor is beyond me.

I lay there for a moment, just taking inventory of my senses. I had a goose egg on my head the size of... well, the size of a goose egg. The front of my brand spankin' new shirt was covered with the sticky remains of one mangled tin of canned peaches. My knee was all swollen from where it got twisted when I fell. And it was very quiet. The quiet of deep night. The quiet of the graveyard.

This was not good.

I pulled myself from the floor and hobbled to the door, calling out for Tompkins as I went. Nothing. Not a sound, not a peep. To my surprise, it was full dark outside. Full dark! You realize what that means, don't you? They -- my friends, my family -- just went on to Harper Ridge without me! Didn't bother to check on me. Oh, I know what they were thinking. Probably figured that I'd got the peaches and the stupid hat and rode on without them. Or that I'd catch up with them by the time they reached Harper Ridge. Or that I found some pretty girl to talk to and forgot all about them. Still doesn't make it any easier to swallow.

I've yelled 'til I'm hoarse. I've pounded and pulled on the doorframe 'til I'm red in the face. Why would Tompkins buy such a danged strong lock? It's just a mercantile, for the love of pete. I've decided that I'm going to have to toss a chair through the window if I want to get out, and I'm about to do just that when I remember that glass don't come cheap. He'll have to get the replacement sent all the way from Boston. And a picture window -- that's going to cost a pretty penny. And who's wages was the cost of that replacement glass going to come out of? Three guesses and the first two don't count.

Why me?

I put the chair down and flopped onto it with a sigh, resigned to my fate. Trapped in Tompkins store for an entire night. It had to be a punishment of some kind. I just wish I knew what I was being punished for!

My gaze travelled around the store wearily. Tompkins had a good supply of dime novels, so I figured I might be able to practice my reading if I could find a candle or an oil lamp. And I'd have plenty to eat. As if the mere thought was all it took, my stomach started rumbling. I pulled myself from the chair and started snooping around. Canned beef, canned raspberries, pickled eggs from the barrel that nearly killed me. Canned peaches, of course. It wasn't quite Emma-worthy, but it was a feast nonetheless. And when I poked around behind the counter, well what did I find? A flask of whiskey. A _large_ flask of whiskey.

Turns out this night might not be so bad after all.  


* * * * *

"What in tarnation is goin' on here?!?!"

The bellow wakes me up with a start. I blink sleepily, trying to see past the blinding light coming through the open door and the bulky figure of Tompkins. The fact that my head feels like it's splintered into about a hundred pieces isn't helping much, either.

Tompkins eyes rake over me and I frown. All right, I've been locked in his store overnight and I'm sure I look the worse for wear, but I can't look THAT bad. Can I?

I squint down at my body, then raise my eyes to take in the rest of the store. When I see the disaster area that used to be Tompkins Mercantile, it all comes back to me. The whiskey. The food. More whiskey. More whiskey. And for a change, some more whiskey.

I'm pretty sure it was around 2am when I decided that practicing my dance steps with the mannequin was a good idea. I can't recall when the mannequin ended up face first in the pickle barrel.

The yards of yellow fabric tucked around my waist and over my shoulder? About 2:30am. I think I was trying to act out a scene from one of the dime novels. Something about a Roman general.

The red feather boa around my neck? 3am. I was cold. Yeah, I'm going with that.

And the bonnet? Lou's fancy-schmancy new purple bonnet that's currently squashed on top of my own hat? I found it tucked behind the receipts on the counter at about 4am. I just didn't want to forget to bring it home with me. Lou would be furious, and heaven knows any sane man does NOT want Lou McCloud furious at him.

I close my eyes and lean my head back on a sack of beans. I figure I might as well relax before Tompkins kills me. So I'm shocked when I hear the unmistakable sound of laughter. I crack an eyelid and peek out. Yup, Tompkins has his hands on his knees and is cackling fit to choke.

When he can finally get a breath, he points at me. "What on earth were you thinkin', boy?"

I return his grin, doing my best to ignore the pounding headache, and shrug. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."


End file.
